Blurring the Lines
by Nolesr1
Summary: Kaia is a high-ranking Roman soldier that was always taught to hate the Norse. Lukas is a Son of Loki who cares little for planning and more for chaos. When Lukas get's a beautiful, crazy idea that has the capability to end a war that's been waging since before he was born, he can hardly ignore it. The problem? Romans don't make good captives.
1. Epilogue

_Many years ago, the Romans and Greeks were once friends, were once allies. They fought the ancient deity, Gaea as allies and as brothers and sisters-in-arms. The bridge that connected these two camps-Percy Jackson and Jason Grace-was a strong bridge. _

_Then came the discovery of the Norse Demigods. The Greeks were ecstatic: New allies! _

_The Romans, however, were less than thrilled: they were defined by their history and their history with the Norse-be they Demigods or Vikings-was less than friendly._

_Relations, then, with the Romans and the Greeks was strained. To make matters worse, the gods and goddesses of old were beginning to fade, were beginning to pull away from their mortal connections. _

_Then came the discovery of the Magicians, the old allies of the Romans. Around the time of this discovery, the gods and goddesses had gone from distant, to silent; this caused dangerous disputes between the already hot tempered Romans and the already edgy Vikings. The former saying that the gods' silence was due to the obvious break in tradition (Allying themselves with the old enemy), while the latter was saying that the silence was due to some magic from on the side of the Romans. The heroes of old, the original seven, were now no more than myths and legends. As tempers became hotter and words became sharper, the Romans and the Vikings were slowly falling from reluctant allies, to enemies. The Greeks, for their part, tried as well as they could to bridge any and all disputes between the Romans and Vikings, all while avoiding their own mistrust of the Magicians. This rocky alliance continued on for years, with the Magicians and Romans gravitating towards one side, and the Vikings and Greeks gravitating towards the other side. _

_Then it happened: a misplaced bomb, a training accident that never should have happened, and the death of over thirty demigods; demigods, argued an early Augur, that were mostly affiliated with the Romans and Egyptians with only a small number of casualties on the Viking/Greek side. In secret, a small number of Magicians and Romans met: they spoke of the chaos that the Vikings reveled in and the disorder that only the Greeks could master. While meetings of peace and apologies were being held, this small group of Romans and Magicians snuck spells into the building._

_Over forty demigods-of all nationalities-were killed. The Vikings and the Greeks, always so quick to jump to war, declared within days that the Romans and Magicians had invited them under the guise of peace, when al they really wanted was war. They would soon reap what they had sown._

_The lines had been drawn, the enemy had been identified, and the Romans and Magicians gathered their greatest fighters and spell-casters and they were sent to fight. _

_It was a complete slaughter for both sides and still the gods of old remained silent. This was later to be known as the First Greco-Viking War._

_Family members of the victims called for blood, called for vengeance. The calls were answered and slowly, war was being fought on both fronts and the end was nowhere in sight. _

_One night, a small party of Vikings and Greeks managed to sneak past the Guards of the Roman encampment. They hid small vials of Greek fire all over the encampment, always keeping an even distance between each explosive; they snuck out the same way they came in and, that morning, the Romans Camp was awakened by the sound of thunderous explosions and bright green fire illuminating the sky. By the end of the day, the casualties rested at a dozen and the injuries numbered at over half the Camp._

_The Magicians vowed vengeance on behalf of their allies and the Romans moved from San Francisco Bay area Washington State, a place renowned for its forests. The Greeks and the Vikings saw this as a victory, as a defining moment in both their history and their efforts to win the war._

_They didn't know that by destroying the Romans' home, they had inadvertently woke up a sleeping beast: months after the attack on New Rome, a group of Romans and Magicians snuck into the Viking Compounds and fired arrows covered with fire into both the Compound and the surrounding forest. The home burned to the ground, the attackers retreating victoriously. From there, hell had literally been unleashed; it was too late for talks of peace, for treaties, for friendships and relationships; the lines separating the different Cultures had been drawn and there was no in between. The heroes of old faded, much like the gods of old, and the only thing that remained of them was their myth. None of the Camps believed in the possibility of peace and to this day, that belief is still strong. _

_I was seven when I first arrived at Camp Jupiter. The first thing I was ever taught was that the Greeks were monsters and that the Vikings were killers. I didn't fully believe this until I was ten years-old and I had traveled too far away from the border of New Rome. Completely oblivious to the world around me, I paid little mind to where I was going. Unfortunately, my foot caught on something, a Viking trap of some sort and it snapped my leg, almost completely breaking the bone and digging the traps sharp teeth into my skin. _

_I remember the pain and the fire that burned up my leg as the trap refused to release me. That was how a wolf had found me, a wild creature practically revered by the Romans because of Lady Lupa. The beast helped me escape that trap and I learned something very important that day: I learned my heritage. From there, I stumbled back to the Camp, was helped to the healer's tent, and the bone in my leg had healed. The scar, however, remained. _

_I am now fourteen and I am close on my way of becoming a very powerful demigod. I know my place and I know my enemy; I know what it is that I'm supposed to do. As the battle wages on, the battle that is now known as the Second Greco-Viking War, there seems to be something brewing in the distance, some war that is about to be fought, worse than anything before. I pray to any silent gods and goddesses that I'm wrong. _

_My name is Psyche Arianna Valentina Lupus-McGavin._

_I am Centurion of the First Cohort._

_I am the Heir of Rome._

**So, as of now, any thoughts? **


	2. Kaia I

**So, hey everyone! How're your respective lives? I hope they're awesome! Anyways, I would like to say that, in response to an anonymous review, I will try everything I can to keep the Norse side of this story as true to the actual myths as possible but there might be some references to the Marvel version of the gods and goddesses. Also, if there's anyone who'd be willing to Beta this, that would be really awesome. So, please enjoy! **

**Kaia**:

Since the beginning of time, Kaia understood one lesson: The Norse Demigods were dangerous. They weren't like the Romans' new allies, the Egyptians. No, the Norse Demigods were cunning, vicious, dangerous, and cruel.

Death, she was always taught, would be better.

Since before her lessons, when she was seven years old, the Romans and the Norse Demigods had been warring with their respective allies-the Egyptians and the Greeks-helping them in any way that they could: distributing weapons, rationing out food to the families that needed it, food for the soldiers, soldiers in general, everything and anything that the allies needed.

It never ceased to amuse her how close the Egyptian and Roman Demigods had gotten as compared to centuries ago, when just mentioning the name 'Egyptian' garnered disgusted looks and curses. Now, without the Egyptians, Kaia had no problem in thinking that the Romans would not have lasted as long as they did.

Kaia stilled when the sound of a twig snapping from behind her sounded. A second later, another twig snapping could be heard.

"_Vae," _she cursed (her ADHD making her watch as the word huffed out before her in a puff of smoke because of the cold) as the sound of something-or worse, some_one_- was getting closer and closer. Kaia was completely and utterly sure that she was alone: being one of the most important figures at Camp Jupiter, second to the Praetors Sung and Garcia, Kaia had checked and double checked all those that were on guard duty; all those on duty were stationed around the Camp. Kaia had crossed the respective Camps' borders around twenty minutes ago.

Translation: she was deep on the Norse Demigods' territory, far away from anyone that could possibly be considered an ally. So any noise she heard, she was to automatically assume that they were dangerous.

When the sound was close enough that she could hear the breathing of the cause(s) of the noise, Kaia did something that went completely against everything she was taught as a Roman: Kaia crouched behind a nearby bush and hid, her Silver embedded, Celestial Bronze dagger held tightly in her right hand.

"-Told you, there was something out here!" A voice was saying.

"We're too far out for any Roman or Egyptian to enter, at least any with a sense of self-preservation," a second voice answered, a sneer evident in his (Kaia knew for sure that both speakers were male) voice. Kaia bristled at the implication. "That being said, Any Roman or Egyptian to be this far out no doubt have been abandoned by their pack and are therefore completely useless to us."

"But I saw-"

"By Loki," the second speaker snapped, seeming to be the Superior of the two. A Superior, it seemed, with a very short fuse. "I don't care about what you think you saw, nor do I want to hear about it. Now, go do something important."

"But, I'm supposed to be on Patrol-"

"Then why in Hel's name did you find the need to disturb me with your imaginings?" The Superior voice growled, causing the hair on the back of Kaia's neck to stand up on end.

"I-I," the first voice stammered, seeming unsure of himself. Finally, the boy's (Kaia assumed it was a younger boy because of the higher notes reached) voice took on a deferent tone. "I am sorry to have disturbed, sir."

"See that it doesn't happen again."

"Aye, sir," the boy answered, saluting his superior and stumbling back where he had come. The older one watched him go, his back to Kaia. She could do one of two things: she could either walk away right now or she could embrace this opportunity that she was given and go back home with the knowledge that there was one less Viking to kill her friends and family.

The second one was starting to sound really tempting…

"I wasn't aware that Romans hid from an adversary," The Boy announced coldly into the empty air. Knowing she was caught, Kaia straightened up and walked around the tree, her dagger held firmly in her hand and her other two weapons hidden comfortably against her hip and shoulder.

"And I wasn't aware that a Viking gave a fair warning before a fight," she replied just as coldly, shifting her weight from foot to foot in preparation for a fight. The Boy turned and studied her posture through icy blue-green eyes, and leaned back against a tree. Finally, he snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Put your weapon down, Little Roman," the boy ordered dryly. "If I wanted to fight you, I wouldn't have warned you."

"And we're back to the whole 'you people shoving a weapon through an opponents' back while they're distracted' thing," Kaia spat, bristling at both the order and the conversation in general.

"'My people'," the boy drawled, smiling lazily at her. For anyone else, that look would act as a calming influence, like a lazy cat in the sunlight. For her, though, it was like seeing a coiled snake that could attack anytime it wanted. It just put her more on edge. "'My people' as opposed to what? Your people?"

"Vikings as opposed to Romans," Kaia spat, never taking her eyes off him. "Barbaric Villagers as opposed to the Empire's Might. Tell me when you want me to slow down."

The boy chuckled and pushed himself off of the tree. Kaia watched his every move, every step through a Hunter's eyes, a wolf's eyes. She refused to step back, even when he got too close, close enough that she could see the wicked mischief in his eyes. Close enough that she could catch a whiff of forest and potions and magic. When he stood right in front of her, Kaia realized that he was tall. A few years ago, that would have intimidated her to no end. Now, as Consul for New Rome and, during battles, the de Facto leader, Kaia refused to step back: she had earned every metal, every title she had and she'd be damned if some Viking pretty boy tried to intimidate her. Instead, she tilted her head upwards and looked the barbarian right in the eye, going as far as to step closer so that she was now in his comfort zone.

"Well, well, well," the boy drawled lazily, never dropping his gaze, "what's a little Roman doing so far out of her own territory and so deep in mine?"

"Do you claim to own this forest?" Kaia asked skeptically, "Because, if so, the Fauns would be very put out with you. Not to mention the Dryads and Nymphs and the like. Those creatures make very dangerous enemies."

"Forest sprites and ghosts hardly scare me," the boy boasted, his own breath appearing in a cloud in front of them.

"They're far more than sprites and ghosts," Kaia snapped bitingly, wondering if she could get away with kneeing him in the groin and the run-

_No. She was Roman. Romans did not run._

Taking in a deep breathe, Kaia forced her mind to relax and she forced her muscles to calm. At seventeen, Kaia had learned the very basics of control when it came to an enemy. What was funny was when it came to a fellow Roman during a Senate meeting, her patience wasn't nearly as controlled.

The boy chuckled and finally, _finally_ fell back a step, his head tilted quizzically to the side and that same, wicked mischief glowing in his eyes. His eyes darted to the direction Kaia would have to journey to get back to Camp and then to her face.

"Well?" He commented, his tone amused, "are you going to leave or are you going to stand there until someone less helpful than myself finds you?"

"I-" she tried, genuinely thrown for the first time in a long time. His smirk grew, which just irritated her further. She didn't turn and she didn't run, not allowing herself to trust the Barbarian farther than she could throw him. He raised an eyebrow,

"Well… Are you going to just stare at me or are you going to leave? If this helps…" He turned his back to her and walked away, never once glancing over his shoulder at her. She studied the spot where he had just vanished, expecting an army of Barbarians to jump out of nowhere. When none did, Kaia slowly backed away in the direction she knew she had to go in. she waited for a second, then turned tail and ran as fast as she could, never once looking back.

….

Kaia leaned forward, her hands braced on the table in front of her. Around her, people were arguing: Praetor Sung (a twenty-one year-old, Legacy of Jupiter) and Magician Akila (a seventeen year-old Magician straight from Cairo) were arguing about what strategic method would work next; Praetor Garcia (a nineteen year-old Daughter of Bellona) and Senator Nika, (an eighteen year-old straight from the training grounds) were arguing about some of the best fighting tactics. Well, the latter was more of a failed attempt to flirt with Garcia but, still, they wouldn't _shut up_!

"Makes you miss the days when you were pounding your head against a giant medal shield for 'training purposes,' doesn't it?" A familiar voice muttered in front of Kaia. With a quick glance upwards, Kaia saw one of her best friends and sisters-in-arms: Maxine wasn't at all what was expected from a Magician being sent to a battlefield; she was rude, impetuous, head-strong, and annoying. The brunette stood at only a few inches taller than Kaia and, yet, she already had more enemies in two years than Kaia had in at least eight years at the Camp. It was a wonder that she was still alive.

"Yeah, no kidding. Just be grateful that our Augur isn't here. If you want to start a pointless argument, find him."

"I have and it's a lot of fun watching his face turn red," Max answered out smugly, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. Kaia just stared at her, straightened up, and slowly shook her head, attempting to hide a smile.

"Gum?" She demanded, discreetly glancing around the room to make sure that no one else saw the illegal substance. Luckily, everyone was too involved with their respective arguments to care. "How did you manage to sneak that in?"

"A) I'm a Magician. I can do a lot of cool stuff and get away with it because I am just that awesome. And B) These," she smugly motioned towards her opulent chest, "are very helpful if you know how to use 'em." She paused and studied Kaia up and down, then shook her head in mock pity at the very flat sight.

"Shut-up," Kaia told her plainly before she could say anything. "Just shut-up."

"What do you think, Consul?" Praetor Sung asked suddenly, snapping Kaia's attention away from her friend and towards her colleague. Kaia returned to her earlier position of placing both of her hands on either side of the maps they were looking at and leaned forward.

"I think we should keep up a continuous Guard around Camp Jupiter," she answered coolly, glancing up only briefly and meeting Sung's and Garcia's eyes before returning her eyes to the map; red X's (and blue. The Egyptians weren't overly fond of the color red) marked up the map where there was said to be some of the greatest weaknesses and faults; the green arrows that covered areas outside of the Camp represented optimum areas for outside attacks. Of course, the last time they _had_ been attacked, it had been at night with no prior warning and the freakin' Guard had been _asleep_…

If Kaia had learned one anything from Lupa it was that wolves weren't known for their mercy.

Forcing herself away from those memories, Kaia finally glanced up and held the Praetors' gazes, straightened her back, and kept one hand flat on the map.

"As much as it kills me to say, we can't afford to move forward an attack; our number one priority is to protect our home front."

Kaia glanced over at Max and Akila and she saw both of them straighten their spines reflexively.

Kaia felt a surge of pride at her best friend: she _was_ rude and impetuous and annoying and headstrong; but she was loyal to the bone, one of the cleverest Magicians Kaia had ever met, and she could spin lies and stories in a way that would make Arachne jealous.

"Magicians, see of you can strengthen the Wards around the Camp," she told them calmly. She turned to Nika, "I need you to kick up some of the training. Talk to Oskar and Mai and tell them that they need to increase the number of guards that surround this Camp, make sure they understand what's at stake and that they use their resources to the greatest of their ability."

"We need as many healers as possible," Praetor Sung's tone almost argumentative but… not. He continued, "With the rise in injuries due to more and more surprise attacks, we need more Healers to help out."

"We can't take more soldiers out of the front," Praetor Garcia argued, turning and glaring at him. Nika stepped forward and wrapped her hand around the Praetor's wrist, almost as if in warning. Garcia ignored her. "Look, we _need_ soldiers-"

"We have the Magicians available-" Sung began, only to be cut off by an indignant Max.

"Excuse me?!" She demanded while rounding on the son of Vulcan and slamming her hands on her hips. "You make it sound like we're sitting back and relaxing while you do all the heavy lifting. We're the ones setting up the Wards; we're the ones that help you train your healers; we're the ones that-"

"We're not trying to downplay the importance of the Magicians!" Sung exclaimed, standing up straighter as though struck by lightning. "We're just saying-"

"_You're_ just saying-" Garcia began.

"Enough!" Kaia snapped, slapping her hand down on table and glaring at each of them. She turned to Sung. "Look, I am perfectly aware of the fact that we need more healers. For that I'm giving you permission to train the Legacies and demigods of all of our healing deities at a younger age; the age limit to begin the training is fourteen? I'm dropping it to eleven. Do with that what you will." She turned to Garcia, "You're right; we do need more fighters. I'm not dropping that age limit because we're already pretty young when we start fighting. What I _will_ do, though, is raise some of the benefits so as to draw in some more veteran fighters." Here, she glanced at the Magician's as though asking them permission. "As long as the Magicians don't mind, I'm more than willing to start training them as fighters instead of just healers."

"We don't mind," Akila answered excitedly. She then blushed and ducked her head respectfully.

"_You_ don't," Kaia grumbled, pushing herself off of the table and straightening up. "But I have a feeling that we'll need to contact the reigning Chief Lector; I doubt he'd appreciate making this decision without his okay. That being said, if he _does_ agree then whoever comes, we'll be more than willing to train them."

"If you build it, they will come?" Max asked dryly, leaning against the table and shoving her gum against the inside of her cheek. Kaia glared at her and then returned her attention to the other people in the tent.

"Are there any more problems?"

"Hundreds," Sung answered dryly as Nika and Akila began talking about nothing and everything while most everyone else began shuffling out of the tent. Garcia waited until they all left before her and Sung rounded on Kaia and Max.

"Maxine Hooper, don't you have somewhere else to be at this moment?" Sung asked dryly, making the question sound more like a command than an actual question. Before Max could say no (and Kaia knew she would say no because she had started shaking her head before Sung had even finished the question) Kaia elbowed the brunette in the side and pointedly stared at the entrance of the tent. With an exasperated sigh and exceedingly slow steps, Max finally made it to the entrance and vanished behind the flap.

"These plans you've made," Garcia began, shaking her head. "It just seems like something's have the chance of falling through the cracks."

"For any plans we make there's that chance," Kaia countered easily, staring straight into her Praetor's dark brown eyes.

"Did you find anything? In the Norse boundaries?" Sung asked, attempting to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Kaia shook her head, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Nothing," she growled, instinctively reaching for her dagger at her waist which she knew wasn't there. Kaia's hands dropped flatly to her sides. "Maybe it was somewhere else?"

"And you're sure the Vikings have it, yes? And not the Greeks?"

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think that this entire thing is a bit of a joke. A bad one, but a joke nonetheless. The Roman Standard wasn't anywhere that I could find it."

"How close to their borders did you get?" Sung asked, reaching for a sword at his waist that wasn't there. Kaia shook her head.

"Close enough that I could see both their Greek and Viking Patrollers and close enough that I could practically touch them," Kaia answered wryly, wondering if she should tell them about the little meet and greet with the Viking Pretty Boy. She decided against it when she saw the sudden darkening in both Praetors' eyes. "I'm beginning to think that this is nothing more than a wild goose chase and that the Standard was just a myth."

"But it's not," Garcia snapped, glancing around the room as though worried about eavesdroppers. "Praetor Frank Zhang, Hazel Levesque, and Percy Jackson brought it back-"

"Centuries ago," Sung countered, surprising Kaia at the sudden ally. "And it vanished. _Centuries_ ago-"

"The Standard has been missing for far longer," Garcia growled irritably. "The first time it had vanished was when men and gods were much closer and for far longer than a couple _centuries_-"

"And during times of peace between the Camps," Kaia interrupted quietly while shaking her head. "I respect that you want to hold onto your faith in the Standard for so long, but the truth is that it's gone. Chances are it was misplaced while New Rome was relocated from California to Washington State after the second Greco-Roman War. To be honest, I don't see the use in that old Standard-"

"It was the symbol of Rome's power!" Garcia snapped, standing up straighter and glaring from Sung to Kaia. "I-it was-"

"Rumored to have held the power of Jupiter," interrupted Sung with a sad shake of his head, "a god that has gone silent and refuses to help us in anyway. What would be the point and sending hundreds of soldiers to battle for a Standard that would now be no better than a decorated branch?"

"How can you say that they've gone silent?" Garcia demanded while her tanned face getting redder and redder and her dark eyes practically spitting fire. "Look at all the demigods we have at camp! They haven't gone _silent_-"

"Demigod children of lesser gods," Kaia argued, lowering her own voice and glancing nervously up at the tent ceiling, "gods and goddesses that never went silent because their voices were never loud to begin with."

"This is practically sacrilege!" Garcia argued with a contemptuous look from Sung to Kaia. "You both know that, right? By saying something that was blessed by Jupiter is practically worthless is-is-"

"Blasphemous?" Kaia demanded, throwing her arms up. "I really respect your faith in the old ways, but this is serious! Okay?" she turned away from the two of them and walked back to the maps strewn across the table at the center of the tent. She leaned against the table and glared up at Garcia. "We are on the brink of a major war, nothing like those little skirmishes and battles that we're used to. Something is coming, something huge and dangerous, and we can't afford to fall back on the old ways because we run the risk at offending a couple of-"

"Gods?" Garcia interrupted sarcastically, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glared at Kaia. "'What's so bad about offending a couple of _gods_?' Do you even hear yourself right now?!"

"What else can we do?" Kaia snapped, her voice rising to a shout. She hoped that before any of the Magicians had left the tent that they had put up an anti-eavesdropping shield. But, knowing Max, that shield has probably been blown to bits. "You want us to risk lives and send soldiers in to get a Standard that we don't even know the whereabouts to? Lives that we can't afford to risk because we need as many soldiers and healers as possible? That's not blasphemy; that's stupidity."

"Your idea of stupidity and mine are different then," Praetor Garcia snapped acidly, glaring daggers from her fellow Praetor to her Consul. Kaia sighed and rubbed her forehead,

"Look, I understand your discomfort at going against the gods. To be honest, I don't feel that comfortable about doing that. But we're at our wits end; I can't keep sending people and resources in looking for something-"

"_Our Standard_," interrupted Garcia, her tone slightly less confrontational.

"-that we're not even sure is there," Kaia finished, her tone leaving no room for arguments. She straightening up and stared down both Praetors. A couple of years ago, she wouldn't have even dreamed about challenging her Praetors like this. But now, it seemed like she challenged them almost on a daily basis. She _hated_ it sometimes.

"One more time? Let's try looking for it once more-"

"We've already tried!" snapped Sung irritably. "Okay? I fail to see how much of a difference one more time will-"

"Okay," Kaia interrupted, earning a surprised 'What?!' from both Praetors but with completely different tones. "We'll try looking for it one more time and we'll do what we did today: send in a single party or two and try to find the Standard. That way, there's a lesser chance for the parties being detected."

"And if something goes wrong?" Sung demanded while glaring at the ground, his shoulders tensed. "If our Scouts are caught or-"

"To reduce stupidity among the Scouts," Kaia interrupted, resisting the urge to chuck a rolled up map at the Praetor. "I'll go and I'll be sure to take a Magician that I trust. That way, I'll be able to do things my way, stay under the radar, and manage to get in and out safely."

At the words 'I'll go,' both Praetors' heads snapped up to stare at her, bewildered. By the end of her declaration, both were shaking their heads, lips pressed into firm lines and looking as though they could come up with at least a hundred reasons why that was a bad idea.

"You're our _Consul_," Garcia argued, emphasizing the word as though Kaia had completely forgotten her position at the Camp. "You're our symbol-"

"I'm a _person_-"

"-you can't just keep throwing yourself into the thick of things!" Garcia finished hotly, glaring over at Sung as though to say 'help me here, you idiot!'

"Look, we understand that you want to help us fight-and that's awesome, by the way-but, come on, what do you think will happen if you, say, _die_ in battle? You're the first heir of Romulus that we've had in… well, in _forever_. We didn't even think such a thing was possible until-"

"Until me," Kaia grumbled, having long ago gotten tired of this entire argument as a whole.

"Exactly! Until _you_. We can't lose you!"

"I'll bring someone I trust-" Kaia began only to be cut off by Sung.

"Maxine Hooper, with all due respect, is hardly someone that you could tru-"

"She's my friend!" Kaia snapped as she slammed her clenched hand on the table. Both Praetors fell silent as she glared at them. "You may not see her as such, but she's resourceful and brilliant and she knows what she's doing and-"

"She can barely lift a sword!"

"She talked Mai out of making her fight! _She _talked _Mai_ out of it! You know, that girl who believes your only choices in life are to live and die by the sword? The girl who carries a sword around everywhere she goes and won't even attend meetings because she can't sneak a sword past Terminus? Max managed to convince her that fighting wasn't that important!"

"And what does her being lazy have to do with anything?" Garcia demanded while Sung began grumbling about 'having a word with Mai.'

"It's not her being lazy!" Kaia argued with her voice getting increasingly louder. "It's about her being able to talk a polar bear into buying ice! She fights with her words and a lot of times that's more dangerous than fighting with a weapon!"

"Kaia," Garcia began as Sung seemed content with shaking his head at everything she said. He reminded Kaia of one of those old-fashioned bobble heads. "Seriously, I don't think that this is a good idea. Think of the risks-"

"Risks we face every day," Kaia argued as she faced both Praetors'. "Come _on,_ you two; the chances of anything happening to me are slim. The chances of anything happening to with Max guarding my back are even slimmer; I can _do_ this, _we _can do this! All I need is someone I trust at my back, my weapons in my hand, and surprise on my side! After all _Audentes fortuna iuvat!"_

"Fortune also favors the wise," countered Garcia, her head still shaking causing the dark ponytail atop her head to bob around her face like a tail. "This plan-"

"You're the one that wants us to find the Standard!"

"Yes, but I also want us all to survive this war with our symbol-"

"_I'm a person!-"_

"-in on piece!" Garcia finished, her voice practically raised to a shout in the small area. "I want us to walk away with Sung and I both alive, our Consul, and the knowledge that we did the best we could!"

"Well this just so happens to be a war and, with that knowledge, is the knowledge that not every soldier makes it out of war alive!"

"But you're the heir of Romulus!" Garcia snapped while waving her arms at Kaia as though presenting something priceless. "You're the person the Romans will look to when everything is said and done!"

"I'm just one person!" Kaia retorted with a shake of her head. "Okay? I-I'm not immortal, I'm not a god and one day I _will_ die! Rome has been a Republic for centuries and as long as it still keeps fighting, it will remain a Republic!"

"You're our Consul," Sung finally spoke after a moment of silence of Kaia's mini explosion.

"I am first and foremost a soldier," Kaia answered firmly, straightening her spine and glaring at them both. "And as a soldier, my duty is to protect New Rome with everything that I am capable of. As one of our lines of Defense, we need our Standard," she continued with a pointed glance at a disgruntled looking Garcia. "And I believe that I can go in and, with the help of _someone I trust_, and get out."

"You love giving us heart attacks, don't you?" Sung asked dryly as Garcia continued to glare at a now smug-looking Kaia.

"Of course," Kaia drawled in an attempt to hide her relief at being able to get out of another pointless Senator meeting. "It makes the blood flow and life more interesting."

"Very well, then," Garcia began brusquely, her words clipped. "You and Maxine Hooper have the permission of the Praetors to go into enemy territory and look for out Standard. You are to go in, get it, and get out. You can start-"

"As soon as possible?" Kaia interrupted hopefully.

"Within the next week," Garcia continued, ignoring the flash of annoyance in Kaia's eyes. "That should give you enough time to prepare yourself and confuse anyone that might notice a pattern. Understand?"

"You know I have the right to overrule any decision you make, right?" Kaia asked curiously. Sung snorted,

"But you won't," he replied confidently. "You understand the need for the limits that we place on this assignment."

"Whatever," Kaia grumbled while shaking her head and making for the tent exit. Before either Praetor could say anything else, Kaia had exited the tent and made to wander in the direction of the sparring field. Of course, she had barely made it a couple feet away from the tent when Maxine literally appeared right next to her, smacking her gum.

"So, how'd it go?"

"You need to stop doing that," Kaia snapped, clutching her chest with her hand as her heart slowly began falling into its original rhythm of beating.

"But it's so much fun!"

"Max!"

"Yeah, yeah whatever. So, how'd it go?"

"Oh, it was a blast: we sang songs, ate food, and celebrated our overall superiority of all things Greek/Norse."

"Aww, really?"

"Psh. No. I was lucky I left without any major injuries. Praetor Garcia is under the inane thought that we need the eagle Standard of Rome to win anything and Praetor Sung argued against it almost ceaselessly. I managed to talk them both into letting me and one other person go into the Norse Boundaries to try and find the Standard one more time."

"That sounds nice."

Kaia glanced up at her friend with an innocent expression and threw her arms around Max's shoulder. "Do you wanna come with me?"

"Mmm," Max drawled, tapping her finger against her chin and looking like she was deep in thought. Finally, she shrugged, still popping her gum. "Eh, what have I got to lose, right? Sure, I'll come."

With a delighted yelp, Kaia threw both of her arms around Max and practically tackled her as both of them began walking towards the field.

**So, the second chapter is up! This was a bit of a nightmare to write but it was so worth it after finishing it and re-reading it a couple of times. Please review or tell me if there's some kind of mistake. Peace out! **


	3. Lukas II

**Yeah! Another Chapter!**

_Lukas:_

It was surprisingly easy to trick the little Roman girl into leaving. So easy, in fact, that Lukas couldn't help but feel a little cheated; he was a descendant of the Norse god of Mischief, after all. Surely fate or whatever would have given something more interesting to play with than some unimportant Roman girl that wandered too far away from home. With another sigh, Lukas sat back in his chair, listening to some of the 'fiercer' warriors bickering over a course of action and an attack route that could give them an upper hand against the Romans and their allies. Some Greek magicians (or _Legacies_, as they called themselves) were on the opposite side of the room, leaning over another table at some maps that were spread all over the top of the table. Lukas should know; after all, he spent hours trying to find some weak point the Romans' defenses.

_Any moment now_…

"Aren't you going to help?" Lukas' younger brother, Magnus, demanded. Lukas leveled and unimpressed stare at the younger boy, staying as calm as ever.

"I've done all the helping I can," he drawled lazily, resting his left ankle on his right knee and leaning farther back in his chair. "I think I've earned myself a break from here."

"You mean you've done all the helping you're _willing_ to do," Magnus corrected, rolling his eyes at his older brother. Lukas smiled serenely and shrugged his shoulders,

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Leave him be," snapped one of the 'fiercest' fighters and the closest thing the Vikings had to a chief from across the room. "If he doesn't want to contribute to the eventual victory of the Vikings and Greeks then so be it; it's not as though there is much that he can offer."

"You mean besides being the oldest descendants of Loki at Camp?" Lukas asked dryly, forcing his tone to show none of the irritation he was feeling at Thorson. "The person that you and everyone else relies on to come up with the most cunning and magical plans whilst you just sit there and twiddle your thumbs? Is that what you mean by 'not much he can offer'?"

Aric glowered at him, his sky blue eyes positively glowing looking like he wanted to murder Lukas. The boy in question just smiled a serene, eerie smile at the older boy. Finally, Max, a blonde haired, blue eyed teenager-this one a descendant of Freya-intervened. With a calming hand on his best mate's shoulder, Max turned to Lukas,

"Loki may be known for his cunning," he told Lukas, a slight warning in his tone, "but don't forget that Freya's descendants are also used extensively in the arts of magic, healing, and planning."

With that, the boy returned his attention to the maps laid out before him, not once looking up to see if anyone followed his lead. Very slowly, though, everyone did.

Lukas snorted,

"I love how they all take order, yet they have no idea where they're going with any of this."

"I proposed we ask the Greeks," Magnus commented quietly, his voice low so that only Lukas could hear him. Lukas, for his part, nodded. "I mean, they have been fighting the Romans far longer than we have."

"That's a sound idea," he answered, stretching out his arms and pushing himself out of his chair. At his full height, the nineteen year old was only a few centimeters taller than his slightly younger half-brother. Of course, when it came to Loki's brood, physical appearance meant next to nothing as their father had always been more or less in the habit of shape-shifting. It explained why they had half-siblings that consisted of an eight legged horse, Hel (the protector of the Norse Underworld), a giant wolf, and a world eating snake.

Their father hadn't been picky, to be honest.

The two exited the tent with a flourish, ignoring the people in the tent.

"Did anyone go for it?" Lukas asked, burying his hands in his trousers and strolling through the camp, Magnus trailing behind him. "Seems like a good enough plan to me."

"Max said there was a chance of bias on the part of the Greeks," Magnus answered with a 'what-are-we-going-to-do-with-them' shrug. Lukas blew out an irritated breath.

"Well that's just brilliant," Lukas huffed, side-stepping a younger group of Greeks/Vikings excitedly talking about swords Vs. spears. Lukas and Magnus watched on in silence, waiting for the group to get far enough away before continuing their conversation. "What's the point of having an ally that knows the enemy and not using that knowledge? That's pure nonsense."

"Ah, well," Magnus returned with a shrug. "S'not much we can do now; they already have their line of attack."

"Really?" Lukas scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

"Theron said-" Magus began only to be cut off by Magnus.

"Theron's a politician," he reminded Magnus contemptuously, with a role of his eyes. Around them, Greeks and Vikings sparred and talked while the younger children were listening to an older descendant of Baldur and some Greek Legacy of Athena about their respective cultures and histories. "Politicians lie as easily as Romans. And just as often," Lukas shook his head. "Honestly, Magnus, you should know that by now."

The two stopped in front of their tent: a large, dark green expanse of cashmere, outlined in gold and with the symbol of their ancestor-two snakes circling each other, forming an 'S' and biting the tail of the other, also in gold-on the tent flap. Lukas entered the tent first, glanced around to make sure the tent was empty, and then motioned for Magnus to follow, preceding to slash his hand downwards as soon as the younger boy entered, sealing the entrance and making sure that no one, not even their three younger siblings could enter; what needed to be said needed to be said in front of someone he trusted _not_ to blurt out at a moment's notice.

Magnus glanced around the tent, a half smirk lighting his features. Lukas stifled a groan. They'd been in this tent for years, and each time the Idiot always entered with the same phrase:

"It's bigger on the inside."

"I hate you," Lukas commented with a shake of his head. "I legitimately hate you."

Magnus shrugged and took a seat on a chair nearest to his bed. "S'hardly my fault you've been at Camp for most of your life and don't know what life on the outside is like."

"Touché."

"So why did you bring me here under the pretense that we were talking about our leaders' idiocy?"

Lukas leaned forward, a flicker of light coming to life in his dark green eyes, "I've found an _In_."

"Y-you found a _what?_" Magnus demanded, sitting straight up in his chair. "I- how?"

Instead of answering straight away, Lukas strolled casually into the room and sauntered towards his bed and then proceeded to gracefully collapse in it. Although, how such an act was possible went beyond Magnus. After seating himself, Lukas crossed his left ankle over his right knee, rested his forearms on both of his legs and leaned forward.

"An _In_, my brother, an _In_; a way to spy on the Romans and Egyptians without having to send in a spy."

Magnus stared blankly at him, glancing once at the entrance and then back at him. The longer Lukas studied his brother, the more obvious their differences seemed to be: Where Lukas had dark, almost black hair, Magnus' was nothing but auburn curls; where Lukas was sarcastic and, more often than not, biting, Magnus was sarcastic but helpful; for Lukas, you wanted him as neither friend nor enemy, but with Magnus, you wanted him as only a friend. It was always entertaining seeing the vast array of differences between the siblings; a lot of times people expected there to be more than five descendants of Loki. Lukas was one of those who had thought that the Loki Tent should be overfilling with half-siblings; it seemed, though, that their father was always too busy causing chaos to have kids. If only the other gods-Greek and Viking-could have had that same mind frame. Then again, the reason their father never had many kids was probably because he was constantly being punished by Odin for disturbing the peace in the Realm Eternal.

If such a thing existed anymore.

"But… _how?_"

"I ran into a girl today," he began only to snap an irritated, 'Not that way, you idiot' at his brother when the boy wiggled his eyebrow suggestively. With an aggravated sigh, Lukas glared at his brother until he coughed and said,

"Right. Sorry, mate."

"_Anyways_," Lukas continued after one last pointed glare. "Today, when I sent Alec out to Patrol, he came back to me saying that someone had set off some of the perimeter alarms, that someone not welcome had stepped within our boundaries."

"That is fantastic," Magnus drawled slowly, a frustrated look in his eyes and a silent 'well, get on with it!' practically shouted in the room.

"I thought it was a fluke, at first," Lukas admitted, intertwining his fingers together as he leaned forward. "But then, when I went out there, I used some of my magic and there _was_ someone out there! It was this Roman girl, probably someone that wandered too far from home or was trying to win some bet with her stupid little friends. Anyways, I put a tracking charm on her, something that would enable us to see what she sees."

"And then…" Magnus began, shaking his head slowly and making a face that said that he wanted his brother to spell out what he was saying.

Lukas rolled his eyes, "I let her go, Genius. I let her run back to her little Camp. What she doesn't know is that she's carrying a pretty little tracker that will inevitably help her enemy out." Lukas paused, looking wistful, and then returned his attention to his brother. "It's quite sad, actually, to think that you unwittingly helped the enemy." Lukas shrugged. "Ah, well, can't be helped now."

"I-that's brilliant!" Magnus exclaimed his blue eyes alight with excitement. "That's amazing! When will we be able use the tracker?"

Lukas stretched his long arms and yawned imperiously, "anytime, I suppose. From what I gathered of her, she should probably be there already or, if not there, then close."

"Let's try it," Magnus exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly and looking like an excited puppy. Lukas rolled his eyes, but grinned at his brother's excitement. Untangling his fingers, he sat with his palms pointed upwards and his muscles relaxed. After focusing his mind, he imagined a mirror; a smooth, silvery mirror that shone clearly in front of him. And on that mirror, he pictured the girl's face: curly, fiery red hair that was twisted into a messy braid, an oval face, large almond shaped, golden eyes with a scar above the right eyebrow, a proud, aquiline nose with a cut at the bridge, and a constellation of freckles across her face, as though she spent every waking moment she could beneath the sun.

Very slowly, the image appeared in the mirror, swirling around like a reflection in a pond. With another calming breath, Lukas projected the image so that Magnus could see it, too. When he opened his eyes, he saw that a glimmering, light silver mist hovered above his cupped hands. And in that mist, there was a moving image a people scrambling around one another; large tents set up; large forts that looked like they had taken years to build up; people shouting and fighting. With a smirk, he realized that he was looking into the very heart of the Roman/Egyptian Compound.

"You've gotten really good at that," Magnus commented, impressed. "You don't even look tired!"

"Practice, little brother," Lukas drawled, barely covering up his own pride. "This little trick took me years of practice."

Magnus stood up from where he sat and walked over to where Lukas sat, attempting to get a closer look at the projection. Their little monkey continued walking, cutting a path through crowds and even managing to earn a few salutes.

"She seems important," Magnus commented after another person saluted. Lukas shrugged, attempting to memorize faces and trying to place ranks.

"Or maybe they're just being friendly," Lukas managed, focusing on anything and everything that he could.

Finally, the monkey stopped near a single tent that shown a light gold as compared to all the beige tents that she had passed. On the tent flap there was an interesting image, almost like two symbols squished together: One emblem was a royal purple eagle, the sign of the Legion, if Lukas was correct; the other was an interesting mixture of a vibrant blue and green, and was the shape of a bull.

"That's an odd shape," Magnus commented, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Probably their way of combining the different camps," Lukas rationalized, shaking his head.

Their monkey stopped outside the tent, right in front of a marble statue of a man's chest and up, with no arms, and a proud face.

"Hey, Terminus," Monkey greeted the statue, surprising both boys. Huh. Who knew the Romans talked to statues? Most interesting. Then, the statue did something that surprised the boys even more: it talked _back_.

"Huh," it huffed, sounding annoyed. "Are you aware that the meeting started almost ten minutes ago? This is not a party: there is nothing _fashionable_ about being late _and_ showing up late is not a sign of a good leader. Not only are you late, you look simply awful! Why aren't you in your formal toga? And are those _weapons?!_ No! No weapons past this point Miss and I don't care if you are the Consul! Rules must be followed!"

The girl laughed. "Come _on_, Terminus! I just got back from a scouting mission and that's all you can say to me? Whatever happened to 'Welcome back!' or 'Howdy there, Ginger!' or, my personal favorite, 'You're not dead? How are you not dead?!' Honestly, Terminus, get with the program!"

"Humph," snapped Terminus, "Don't get snippy with me, little miss! And, as you were in enemy territory, I'm afraid that I must check for any foreign weaponry."

"Really, Terminus? Is that really necessary?"

"How is he supposed to check for weapons?" Magnus whispered, confused. "He doesn't have any arms."

"Probably magic of some kind," Lukas answered while his mind was racing. _Consul? Talking statues? _Consul?!_ There was no way that little girl had been Consul…_

Suddenly Magnus straightened, his spine snapping at the very sudden, very sharp action. "Wait. If the one checking is magical than-"

"_Hel,_" snarled Lukas, watching helplessly as the picture in his hands slowly went from a clear screen, to an awful, old static TV, to a blank screen. Now the only thing in his cupped hands was the glowing silvery fog. With another growled curse, he dropped his hands to his side and stood up, livid. Magnus watched him pace from his spot while leaning against Lukas' bed.

"What was that?" Magnus finally demanded, after a few minutes passed in silence. "What was that statue thing? How did he manage to interrupt the tracking spell? What was happening?!"

"Did you hear what he called her?" Lukas demanded, stopping in his steps and staring down at Magnus in astonishment. "_Did you hear what he called her?!_"

"Yeah," Magnus replied, sounding confused by the sudden intensity in Lukas' voice. "He called her a Counselor or something."

"No," Lukas, argued while starting his pacing anew with even more intensity. "He called her a _Consul_."

"Well… what is that?"

"A very important figure in Roman culture and a very powerful bargaining chip," Lukas finished viciously, swearing under his breath and kicking the nearest thing in his path: a small, light blue pillow that his youngest sister usually slept with.

He couldn't believe it: he had just had one of the most important figures in the Roman Camp and he had just _let her go!_ _Who does that!?_ _Why_ did he do that?!

_How could you have missed that? _Part of his mind whispered. Romans usually had a tattoo on the inside of the forearms, something that showed who their parents were, something that showed their rank and how long they were at the Camp, something that gave away even the slightest bit how important the person was to the Romans. How did he not see that?!

She had been wearing long-sleeves, he realized. The only thing he knew from her outfit was that her boots showed her to be a hunter (torn up and overused) and her shirt showed her to be Roman (Royal purple with SPQR on the chest); there was no way that he could have known that the little redhead from the woods was the De Facto leader of New Rome. No way.

Lukas shook his head and continued, "Normally, New Rome is ruled by two Praetors who are voted for by the people and who make the decisions with the help of the Senate. They listen to the Senate, but at the end of the day, any decisions concerning New Rome are made by them. But, during times of war, the Praetors can pick a Consul who is pretty much the leader, the decision-maker of New Rome during the war."

"So, let me get this straight," Magnus began, slowly rising to his feet. "You had their leader, their bloody _Ruler_ and you just let her go?! _Why did you do that?!"_

"I didn't know that she was the Consul," Lukas snapped, glaring daggers at his younger brother. "Had I known, I would have finished her off when I had the chance! It's not like she had a sign over her head the said, 'CONSUL OF NEW ROME! PLEASE KILL ME NOW!"

"What now, then?" Magnus demanded with his eyes still on his brother as he leaned against the nearest bed post. "We had one of the most powerful leaders in the Roman Army and we just let her go. Literally, we let her waltz right back home."

"She'll be back," Lukas announced, suddenly stopping in his pacing as her turned towards Magnus. For his part, Magnus just raised a brow, looking like a large, lazy cat.

"Oh? And what makes you think she'll be back?"

"Romans are known for their tenacity, right?" Lukas reminded him, his eyes lighting up as a new idea slowly began to unfurl in his mind. "Not for their brains. The girl came here for a reason; she was looking for something, something that was probably very important for _her_, of all people, to come into enemy territory to find it. She's no doubt still looking for it if that's the case! She'll be back, she _has _to be back."

"We try that tracking spell in her again, then; right?"

"No," Lukas answered, that fervent light shining even brighter. "We capture her. Imagine, little brother, how much information we can get from her if we manage to catch her; the formations, number of soldiers, anything! This isn't just some Foot soldier or Calvary soldier; this is one of their top soldiers, probably at the same level as Aric or David, that Zeus boy, or even Dylan, that Poseidon kid. This could be a huge chance for us!"

"_If_ it works," Magnus pointed out, pushing himself off of the bed post and shoving his hands into his pocket, looking lost. "I think it would be best of we think this through."

"We aren't Athena's children!" Lukas argued, shaking his head. "We don't have the time to think out every tiny little detail and every reaction to every little detail; we have to act now, or as soon as possible!"

"It would be smart to think this through, though, idiot," Magnus argued, taking a step closer to Lukas. "Think about it: if we capture one of their soldiers, we run the risk of either winning their surrender or making them even angrier and giving them a something to rally behind. If we do this, we can either gain an unconditional surrender or awaken a sleeping giant."

Despite those words, Lukas' gaze was bright, almost glowing with a manic, dark green light. A dangerous smile, worthy of their own ancestor slowly tilted upwards on his face. "Well then," he drawled, grinning that Cheshire grin, "I say that giant's been sleeping long enough, wouldn't you?"

Magnus swore softly and shook his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention and he frowned, his head turned slightly towards the entrance of the tent.

"D'you hear that pinging sound?"

"What ping- Oh! That one! Yes," Lukas snapped his fingers and suddenly felt like a pressure he hadn't been aware of earlier vanished, leaving him with the feeling that he had just stood up to quickly after spending too long sitting down, leaving his head feeling dizzy. A second later, his younger brother, Mike scrambled into the room and glowered at the two.

"Who put a blocking spell on the tent?"

"Someone who doesn't want you to bother them anymore," Magnus countered, earning a snort of agreement from Lukas. Mike glared at them but ran to his bed, grabbed a spell book full of runes that he kept beneath his pillow, and then ran out.

"Brat," Lukas grumbled, sauntering to his desk and reaching for a rune book with more advanced spells than the one his thirteen year-old brother had just grabbed.

"Shut-up, Luke, you know you were just like that at his age."

"Irritating Rapscallion."

Magnus laughed and shook his head. Suddenly his smile vanished. "Hey, Lukas, how did you know about the Praetors and the Consul and the likes?"

"Mica told me," Lukas replied with a careless shrug, naming the usual Athena teacher. "Kale-" he named the descendant of Baldur and De Facto Norse teacher-" taught me about our heritage while Mica taught me about the Greeks and Romans."

"Why would you care about their heritage? What can you gain from hearing about _them_?" Magnus asked and, try as he might, he couldn't hide the contempt in his voice at the mention of 'them.'

"Any fool can learn about their own history," Lukas answered, slowly becoming absorbed in his spell book. "It takes a true genius to learn about an enemy's history."

"Know your enemy?" Magnus asked, walking towards his bed and collapsing in it.

"Know your enemy," Lukas confirmed, his voice trailing off as he caught sight of a new spell.

….

"Are you done yet?" Magnus demanded nearly two week later while sprawled out on his bed with his head hanging over the side. Lukas barely spared his younger brother a glare before returning his attention to the task at hand. It was one of his best ideas, if he was being honest with himself, and he was overall very proud of it.

"Can you explain to me, one more time, what that is? And what we're supposed to do?"

"Are you fully aware of how irritating you're being?"

Magnus guffawed, a sound that bounced off the interior of the tent, causing Lukas to glance nervously at the entrance in an attempt to make sure that none of his younger siblings had wandered in. The blocking spell that always served Lukas so well was faithfully still up and running, but knowing his siblings (and his ancestor, to be honest) there was no brand of mischief that would escape any of them. And trying to destroy a blocking spell just to prove that they _could_ was definitely something that his siblings would do. Lukas sighed and shook his head,

"This," he held up the small, black sphere that rested in the palm of his hand, "will put the girl to sleep the next time we see her. All we have to do is toss it, say _reykr, _step back, and watch as plumes of dark smoke overwhelm the girl and put her to sleep."

"… Permanently?"

"No, Idiot, we need her _alive_, remember?"

Magnus sighed and ran his hand through his auburn curls, "honestly? It feels wrong letting one of them go alive. I mean, if Aric or anyone else sees her alive you know they'll want to be the ones to finish her off. Wouldn't it be our, you know, duty to finish her off?"

"Imagine how much fun it would be to have not just _a_ Roman, but _the_ Roman in our clutches? We could do anything we want with her as a bargaining chip! We could shove it in Aric and Dylan and David's faces! "

Magnus stared at him dubiously, "I highly doubt she would let us capture her let alone parade her around the Camp."

Lukas shrugged, not seeming to care in the slightest, "being surrounded by the enemy, I highly doubt she'd have much of a choice. I don't think even the Romans are stupid enough to attack without any sort of back-up."

"They're _Romans; _just because_ we _wouldn't be stupid enough to fight without some type of help, doesn't mean that they wouldn't be."

"True enough," Lukas agreed while tossing the sphere into the air and catching it in the very center of his palm, that proud smirk never once leaving his face.

"And are you positive- completely and irrevocably positive-that this will work?"

"_Gods_, brother, _yes_, I am completely positive that this will work," he glanced over at his brother and raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why his own blood wasn't as excited about this as he was. "I'm hurt, it's almost like you don't trust me."

"Imagine that," Magnus drawled ruefully, shaking his head and sitting up in his bed. "Who would have thought that the descendant of the god of lies would have trust issues?"

"Anyone making labels," Lukas countered, running the sphere between his fingers and tossing it from one hand to the other. Magnus eyed it warily,

"Maybe we should test it-" he began, only to be cut off by an exasperated Lukas,

"Honestly brother I'm halfway tempted to use this right now on _you_."

"Hey, at least then we could try it-"

With a loud sigh, Lukas pushed himself to his feet, tossed the little sphere at Magnus and whispered,

"_Reykr_."

Magnus' eyes widened and he turned to glare at his brother as the tent slowly began filling with a dark, heavy screen of smoke. Before their eyes, the fog draped both of them in a heavy, complete darkness, to a point where neither could see their hands in front of their face.

"_Heiðr," _two voices coughed in unison, adding power to the command. Within seconds, the entire room was cleared of any smoke and the two boys found themselves doubled over coughing.

"I thought," Magnus began still releasing hacking coughs, "I-I thought y-you said it was going to kn-knock her out?!"

"I never said that," Lukas corrected, turning his head to release a number of harsh coughs into his elbow. "I said she would be put to sleep. I never specified _how_."

"Through _smoke inhalation?!_"

Lukas stared at his brother, slightly indignant at the horror written all over the younger boy's face.

"She's not going to die from inhaling smoke," Lukas snapped, his voice coming out as more of a croak than anything else. "It's merely going to overwhelm her and, because her lungs will be completely cut off from air, she's going to pass out and then start inhaling clean air. It's no different than when Kiki attempts to trick us into getting something and she holds her breath until her face turns blue: the reason she almost passes out is because the oxygen to her lungs has been cut off and her lungs are looking for a way to get more oxygen to them. Its simple science, really."

"It sounds painful," Magnus croaked, rubbing his throat and wincing.

"She'll live."

"When do you think she'll be back?"

"She's been gone for near two weeks and we-"

"How do you know she's _coming_ back?" Magnus demanded, his voice finally returning to its usual cadence.

Lukas grinned mysteriously and threw out his arm, facing the sphere now on the ground,

"_Gildi," _he hissed and Magnus watched in quiet astonishment as the sphere rose slowly from the ground and glided to where Lukas stood before dropping into his open hand.

**Rayker: according to google, this means 'smoke' in Old Norse.**

**Heiðr: according to google, this means 'clear' in Old Norse.**

**Gildi: according to google (Bet you're getting tired of this already), this means 'return' in Old Norse. **

**Well, chapter 3 up and running! Tell me what you think.**


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